


Change of Pace

by kibasniper



Series: Femslash February 2021 [4]
Category: Super Mario & Related Fandoms, Super Mario Bros. (Video Games)
Genre: Banter, Boredom, Damsels in Distress, F/F, Femslash February, Femslash February 2021, Fluff and Humor, Flying, Gen, Imprisonment, Rescue Missions, but not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-13 10:28:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29152008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kibasniper/pseuds/kibasniper
Summary: Peach and Bowser wait for Mario to arrive for another final showdown, but much to their surprise, a princess storms his castle.
Relationships: Koopa | Bowser & Peach-hime | Peach Toadstool, Princess Daisy/Peach-hime | Peach Toadstool
Series: Femslash February 2021 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2134674
Comments: 2
Kudos: 17





	Change of Pace

**Author's Note:**

> femslash february 2021 prompt 4: feather.
> 
> as soon as i saw this prompt, i had to connect it with the cape feather!

“Bwahaha! How are you liking your accommodations, princess?”

Bowser’s voice fills his throne room. Peach presses her gloved palm to her cheek and huffs. She spares him a glance as he gloats below her. Once again, she’s found herself trapped in a cage hanging from the ceiling of one of his several castles. Bowser’s face is on every flag tethered to the rocky walls. Pools filled with lava surround the stone floor. Magma gushes in from hollowed-out caverns, making the room far hotter than it needs to be in Peach’s opinion.

“Admiring the lava?” Bowser sneers, crossing his arms.

She fans herself, cooling the sweat on her brow and sighing. “You don’t know a single thing about what makes a throne room hospitable. I think Junior’s ideas about home decor are far superior than yours, Bowser.”

Short bursts of smoke jut from his nostrils. “Big talk for someone who picked striped and pastel wallpaper for her castle,” he grumbles, stomping underneath her cage.

Peach gasps. Offense colors her cheeks red. “Well, at least I give my castle a proper ventilation system! Your castle traps heat so terribly that I’m surprised your minions haven’t sweated themselves into a bunch of Dry Bones!”

He waves off her frustration as if it was an annoying gnat buzzing around his head. She grips the steel bars and glares down at Bowser, wrinkling her nose. He settles into his massive, golden throne, his smirk pinching her nerves when their eyes meet.

“Now, now, my Peachy, no need for disdain. I don’t want our wedding to start off on the wrong foot,” Bowser says, and he peers at the far wall. “We can work on redecorating our castle as a honeymoon date. You can pick some darker pastels to match the lava.”

“Absolutely not,” Peach huffs, crossing her arms.

As Bowser cackles, his deep voice reverberating throughout the massive room, Peach rolls her eyes. This song and dance is getting dreadfully old. Trapped in a cage, waiting for her savior to come, it’s enough to give her a headache. Even bantering with Bowser, proclaiming Mario would rescue her after Bowser promised his demise, had diminished into jabs and criticism about interior decorating.

Peach tugs on her brooch. She wonders what is taking Mario so long. She usually isn’t at Bowser’s mercy for longer than a day. Peering down at Bowser, she notices him inspecting his claws, dragging his thumb along their sharp points.

They share in mutual boredom. Only the bubbling lava fills the silence. They gaze at each other again before turning their attention to the locked, wooden double doors. Bowser’s tail thumps against his armrest, and Peach drums her fingers across the bars, creating an uneven beat to compliment the flowing magma.

“Can I get you anything?” he calls up. “Some food? Do you need a bathroom break?”

Peach groans and pinches the bridge of her nose. “Bowser, asking a lady if she needs to use the restroom is very awkward for everyone involved.”

“Well, excuse me for trying to be a good host.”

“I don’t believe someone who commits lèse-majesté on a weekly basis can constitute as a good host.”

They lapse into silence again, Bowser lamenting his social mishap. Peach sits down and tucks her knees to her chest. She peers at the doors, pursing her lips and jiggling her foot.

“So, uh, what were you and Daisy doing before I, um, swooped in?” Bowser asks.

Scowling, Peach pivots around on her bottom and presses her head to the bars. “We were about to gussy ourselves up for Sarasaland’s winter festival tonight.” She clicks her tongue. “She was considering asking you and Junior to come along, but since you captured me a few days ago, too, she tore up your invitations.”

Bowser gasps and tosses his arms out. “Aw, come on, Peach! Junior would love going to a festival. Can we go if things don’t turn out the way I want them to?” He grins and rests his elbows on his knees. “I know. If you don’t let us go, I’ll give Junior a battalion, and he can wreak some havoc in Daisy’s kingdom.”

“And let Mario stomp him on the head a few more times?”

“Kamek will supervise him! He won’t let Mario do that again. If he does, I’ll burn him alive.” Bowser chortles, leaning into his seat and narrowing his eyes on her. “Besides, Mario won’t be able to do it if he ends up swallowed in the lava outside of-!”

The doors quake, Bowser and Peach jerking their heads to them. They shudder, jerking inwards and scraping the floor. The right door smashes inwards, the nails within the locks falling and clattering to the floor. Peach catches a gloved fist through the crack of the door, and it thrusts forward, slamming into the wall.

The foyer is littered with bodies. Goombas, Buzzy Beetles, Hammer Bros, and Koopas are splayed across the crumbling cobblestone floor and crimson carpets. Boom Boom’s body is indented into the ground, Pom Pom twitching next to him. Peach spots Kamek’s wand discarded among Bowser’s army. Looking in the distance, she finds Kamek lying atop a pile of Koopalings, Iggy clawing at the ground in a feeble attempt to escape the weight of the others on top of him.

Light spills in from the entrance. The right door creaks on loose hinges, casting a shadow across the intruder. Peach’s mouth drops open. She hears Bowser sputter out his shock, garbled noises tearing free from the back of his throat. 

“You’re...you’re not Mario,” Bowser breathes out, pupils dilating.

Daisy struts inside, grinning. The hem of her dress is slightly singed. Smoke rises from the grayer fabric, the wispy smog fading as she storms his castle.

“Hey there, Bows! I’m gonna need you to let Peach go,” she says, waving. “We were kind of in the middle of something, and it’s pretty rude you swiped her like that.”

The corners of Peach’s lips lift upwards. She lets out a chuckle twinged in disbelief. Per the norm, she expects Mario to rush in behind Daisy, but Daisy remains steadfast, challenging Bowser by herself. Gripping the bars, she leans forward, her forehead pressing into the cool metal, and she grins so hard her cheeks ache.

Bowser lunges out of his throne, claws twitching. His eyes dart to other entrances, but no one else arrives. Bringing his glare back to Daisy, Bowser smirks at his opponent. “I gotta say, you’re surprising! I thought you would have hightailed it to Mario and tattle.”

“I put Mario and Luigi in charge of decorations for the festival tonight! They can’t be distracted by stuff like this,” Daisy proclaims, puffing out her chest. “Besides, you owe me a throne room! The Koopalings really caused some damage, y’know.” She grips her hip, one hand behind her back. “So, should I send you or Kamek the bill?”

“You can take it out of Sarasaland’s treasury and pay for some better wallpaper. Bright yellow is even gaudier than Peach’s stripes,” Bowser sneers, the princesses gasping.

“It’s a splash of color! It’s far better than dull gray and lava jacuzzis,” Peach shouts, shaking her fist through the bars.

“Exactly!” Daisy taps her temple. “We’re on the same wavelength as usual, Peach!”

Bowser growls, a guttural sound that rebounds in his throat. He stomps towards her, smoke billowing from the spaces between his fangs. Arching his back, he roars, the castle walls shaking and lava shuddering in response, and plunging his head forward, he breathes fire where Daisy stands.

Peach cries out her name. She reaches through the bars, helplessness plaguing her. She grits her molars, feeling they would crack if she exerts any more pressure. Her forehead throbs, but she continues pushing herself against her cage as if she could simply slip through it by will alone.

The flames rush at Daisy and encompass her vision. The snap and crackle fill her ears, overpowering Bowser’s mighty bellowing. Her lungs start to ache, pulsing with each breath she takes, but nonetheless, she grins.

Daisy pulls out her hand and uncurls her fingers. The Cape Feather springs to life in her palm. She clutches it tightly, and it transforms into a brilliant yellow cape. She thrusts it behind her and launches into the air, narrowly avoiding becoming a smoldering pile of soot when the flames burn her afterimage.

Bowser snaps his mouth shut. He swipes at her midsection, but she flaps her arms, ascending just out of his reach. Daisy floats to the cage, smiling at Peach, who heaves out a sigh of relief. Clutching a bar, Daisy steadies herself and nudges her hip against Peach’s hand. A glimmer of bronze catches Peach’s eye, and she quickly retrieves the key to her prison from Daisy’s dress pocket.

“Where’d you get that?” Bowser barks, Peach slipping it into the slot above her head.

“Kamek! I caught him before he could throw it into one of your hundred lava pits,” Daisy chirps, the key clicking into place.

Peach turns it, and the bars withdraw into the ceiling with a slow hiss. She tosses the key at Bowser, hitting him in the snout. As he grunts and rubs his nose, Peach wraps her arms around Daisy’s waist, who kicks off the wobbling cage and soars above Bowser’s head.

“Hey, Bowser! If you and Junior get ready before sunset, you’ll make it in time for the festival!” Daisy calls, and she dives through the door, Peach nestling into her shoulder.

The princesses fly above Bowser’s domain, leaving behind the heat, smoke, and suffocation. Peach giggles, tightening her grip on the lace and satin furls of Daisy’s dress. Daisy grins and kisses Peach’s forehead, the wind under her cape carrying them all the way back to Sarasaland.

“My heroine,” Peach murmurs, and Daisy laughs, tossing her head back.

“Yep, that’s me! Daisy! Princess and heroine!”


End file.
